Chapter 39 Lena
LENA
Rem is a statue, unblinking, frozen against me.
“I love you,” I repeat. I thought saying it would make me more freaked out than I already am, but it has the opposite effect. The more I say it, the more certain I am that I’m right. Not just about how I feel, but about my decision to stay by his side.
My time at the hotel was supposed to give me a moment to get my head straight, to think through what being with Rem would mean, and if I could cope with why he ended up in my life to begin with.
Aldo’s abrupt arrival and revelations about Maria threw all of that out the window.
For so long I’ve felt like life was something that happened to me.
A series of mundane days and months punctuated by trivial trials and heartbreaking tragedies.
Things I had to deal with but had no control over. Until now.
No matter what Aldo’s DNA test says, the past few weeks have taught me who I am.
I am a woman who has lost so much, but I can still feel the warmth of the home the Haywoods gave me. Can still feel Aunt Mable’s kindness when I picture the room she made for me at her house.
I am a woman who has struggled to make friends but, in my fast friendship with Bianca, I have found a deep connection in the most unexpected place.
I am a woman someone has tried to destroy over and over, but I have survived. I’m still here, still standing.
I owe Rem for that. Not just because he literally saved my life, but because he helped me realize how strong I can be.
Yes, I’ve fallen in love with him. But I’ve also fallen a little more in love with myself, and that is a gift I never expected. One I owe in large part to the man standing perfectly still in front of me.
I run my thumb across his cheek, my fingers slipping beneath the cut of his jaw.
I relish the scrape of his stubble against my skin, the way he instinctively leans into my touch.
“I don’t want a new life. I don’t want to start over again.
I want what I have with you and I’m not afraid to fight for it. Especially when I have you by my side.”
“You’re refusing to leave?” Rem’s voice is so low I have to lean forward to hear him.
“I’m not leaving.”
“You still want me?”
“I still want you.”
Rem’s hands circle my upper arms, his fingertips scalding. “You love me?”
For the first time in what feels like days, I smile. A genuine face-splitting, soul warming smile. In this moment, the rest of the world vanishes. It’s just me, Rem, and the feelings we have for each other. “I do,” I tell him. “I love you.”
Rem drops his forehead to mine. Air leaves his lungs in a rush, his hands climbing my shoulders, neck, until they are buried in my hair.
Rem’s muttering in Italian, some curses, something that sounds more like a prayer.
Slowly, so slowly, he dips his head, his lips millimeters from mine.
“Thank God, Lena, because I am so fucking in love with you.”
Then we’re kissing. Softly. A brush of lips, a ragged breath. I catch the dark glint of Rem’s eyes behind half-lowered lids. He’s watching me like he’s not sure I’m real. Like he thinks I’m going to vanish at any second.
“I want you,” I say.
“Holy God, Lena, I fucking need you.” A truth Rem feeds me as he takes my mouth again. He tugs my head back, stretching my neck into a vulnerable arch as he drags his lips across mine, over and over. He licks the seam of my lips but doesn’t dip inside.
I scrape my nails across his shoulders, digging deep into the thick column of his neck. “More. I need you to kiss me.”
Rem growls, pressing us back against the kitchen island. The marble digs a hard line across my back. Rem’s erection presses heavy against my stomach and my blood starts to simmer. Still, he keeps the kiss light, the brush of our mouths rhythmic and warm. Soft. Nothing close to what I need.
Frustrated, I rock my hips against him. My core brushes the top of his thigh, his cock pressing into the soft cushion of my stomach. Rem’s fingers clench in my hair.
I do it again, the movement only a tease for me, but pure torment for him. I feel the tremor that rolls down his spine, the pulse of his hips he can’t suppress.
As punishment, Rem steals his mouth from mine.
He coasts his lips across my cheek, along my jaw, to the sensitive skin behind my ear.
The marble counter is unyielding behind me.
His enormous body is hot and hard in front of me.
I drop my hands to his lower back, just above the delicious curve of his ass.
I yank his black dress shirt from his waistband and press my palms to his hot skin, the relentless rhythm of my hips never faltering.
“Fuck, woman,” he groans against my neck, teeth nipping. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“No,” I pant, my breathing all out of whack. “I’m trying to get you to kiss me.”
Rem lifts his head, his eyes a dark swirl of emotions. His lips, those lips he’s using to undo me, quirk up at one corner.
“Now look who is being bossy.”
“You love it,” I practically whine, wiggling my hips against him.
Rem grabs my waist, stilling me with his grip. “I love you, mia amata. Now get up on that fucking counter so I can give you what you need.”
The next instant I’m alone on the kitchen island.
Rem steps back, breaking physical contact.
His hair’s disheveled, his shirt untucked, the clean line of his bespoke suit pants disfigured by his massive erection.
Lust flushes his cheeks, and his hands are trembling where they’re fisted at his sides.
He has never looked more gorgeous. More mine.
“Time to actually obey your husband, Mrs. Cosenza. Sweater off.”
Mouth dry, I find the hem and lift, dragging the fabric over my head.
Cool air hits my skin. I shiver. Rem’s eyes drop to my breasts. I shiver for an entirely different reason.
“Bra off.”
A flick of my fingers and it’s gone. My nipples are already hard. Exposed to Rem’s heated stare, the peaks are almost painful, my breasts swollen and heavy with arousal.
I reach for one, trying to ease the ache, but stop when Rem shakes his head. “Not this time, little one. You don’t get to touch. Just me.” He takes another step back, his hungry gaze licking down my entire body. “Jeans and underwear off. Now.”
Pulse racing, I undo the button and zipper on my jeans and, thumbs beneath the waistband of my panties, I shimmy out of the rest of my clothes, dragging my socks off at the same time.
The fabric makes a soft thud when it hits the floor and I’m left naked, the marble cool beneath my ass, my husband’s gaze molten as it travels over every exposed inch.
Seconds turn to minutes. Minutes feel like they drag into hours as Rem just stands and stares. I grip the counter on either side of my legs, my body tingling and my core weeping as Rem eats me with his eyes. His attention lingers on my breasts and my nipples throb.
He traces the curve of my hips, and my skin feels like it’s on fire.
He drags his gaze down my legs, and I’m hit by a wave of sensation, the backs of my knees oversensitive and my thighs trembling from the effort of not rubbing them together.
Like he’s reading my mind, Rem says, “You’re dying to touch your sweet pussy, aren’t you piccola?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
Rem’s breathing falters, but he sounds totally in control when he says, “Open your legs. Show me how wet you are.”
I do. Of course I do. I’m vibrating with arousal, my core throbbing, desire slicking my swollen skin and the ache deep inside intensifying as my need for Rem notches even higher.
“You are…” Rem trails off, voice strained. He looks at my exposed center, his pupils dilating and eyelids getting heavy as he stares at the evidence of how much I want him. “You are so fucking gorgeous, Lena.”
He lifts his eyes to mine, conviction and love, devotion and adoration shining back at me.
Then, he’s taking off his clothes. Methodically, like there’s no rush.
Rem licks his lips and stares at my pussy and unbuttons his shirt like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
With the last button taken care of, Rem shrugs his muscular shoulders, and the shirt slides free, exposing the glory of his bare chest. I bite my lip, a fresh rush of arousal slicking my inner thighs.
Rem toes off his shoes then bends to strip off the rest of his clothing.
I watch, heart pounding, as he straightens, gifting me with the most stunning view of his impressive form.
Cords of muscles strain against his hair-dusted, olive-toned skin, tattoos marking his arms and chest in dark, artful swirls.
I force myself to look at the mark my knife made on his skin before getting distracted by the corrugated surface of his stomach, which is just begging to be licked.
Then there’s his cock.
It is hard, thick, the head swollen and glistening. It stands up proud from his pelvis and I feel myself drool as it throbs under my stare.
Rem fists his erection, giving himself a hard tug as he stalks toward me. I moan when I see another bead of precome coat his head, the ruddy skin disappearing into Rem’s fist as he pumps himself. The more he touches it, the larger his cock seems to get, the more I need to feel him filling me.
Rem takes the final step toward me, his legs brushing my dangling feet. I’m about to reach for him when he shakes his head, denying my touch. “Lie back, piccolina.”
“Rem,” I beg, even as I do as I’m told.
“I know, love.” His words coast across my upper thighs, his nose just inches from my core. I swear I hear him inhale deep. Rem’s voice is pure lust when he says, “I’m going to give you exactly what you need, Lena. Exactly what we both need.”
Rem isn’t touching any part of my body and I’m already writhing against the cool counter, about to lose my fucking mind. “Shhhh.” He leans over me, chest inches above me, his left hand propped by my head. “Shhh,” he repeats, his lips a breath from mine. “I’m going to make you feel so much better.”